Ghosts of the Past
by the mischievous pixie
Summary: Sequel to "Pieces Come Together" Ten years have passed since the Jigsaw murders ended, but will a visitor trigger a new wave of violence?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**A/N: Okay, I decided to try something kinda new. Yes this is supposed to have a sort of "Phantom of the Opera" feel to it, here's hoping it works.**

It had been ten years since the end of the Jigsaw murders. Detective Hoffman had disappeared, of course everyone assumed he had died (and good riddance to him too), and the police had chained up the last Jigsaw warehouse. Once the initial shock had died down, the general population allowed Jigsaw and Hoffman and the murders to fade into the past.

The torn crime scene tape fluttered in the crisp night air, rats scurried along the ground looking for food. The sound of approaching footsteps sent them running away, footsteps were rare nowadays.

A group of people approached the rusted gate. Without pausing, they all hopped over the fence and headed for the locked door.

"Okay Ginny, you know what you need to do." The leader of the group said, removing her hood.

"I hate you guys, you know that right?" the one named Ginny scowled at them as she put her gloves on.

They all laughed, Ginny eventually joining in. "Helen, in all seriousness though, why do I have to be the one to do this?"

"Because you're the only one with the guts to do this. Remember Cancun?" she gave her friend a flashlight and a walkie-talkie, "Now remember: go in, get something Jigsaw-y and come back." Walking around to the side of the building, Ginny found a broken window and climbed in.

She landed on the floor with a loud *thud*. Wincing, she turned on the flashlight and shined it around the room. "Holy crap!" she said to herself as she took a few tentative steps forward. Reading old news reports and hearing stories from Helen's crazy godmother Jill was one thing, but actually seeing the inside of an old Jigsaw warehouse was an entirely different story. "Helen, you guys should really come in here. You guys gotta see this!" she said into the walkie.  
Ginny continued to walk around, it was astounding. There were old mannequins with random pieces of metal attached to them, crude dusty blueprints for some of the traps reported, she didn't want to admit it but she was fascinated.

"Ginny, what's taking so long?" Helen's southern drawl through the walkie startled her.

"Sorry, I'm trying to find something that even one of your bimbo sisters would recognize as Jigsaw." A clanking sound from behind her made her jump. "Who's there?" she called out, pointing the flashlight in the direction of the noise, no answer. "Of course there's no answer, there's never an answer." She facepalmed and continued to look around.

Narrowly avoiding the flashlight, he continued to watch the young woman rifling around the warehouse. By now he was used to the occasional break-in, watching them run away screaming when they heard any noise. This one was different, maybe it was his imagination or a trick of the dim lighting but this woman seemed to look at the traps and pieces with a sort of admiration or reverence; it intrigued him. He overheard her speak with another person on a walkie about taking a trap, maybe for some kind of joke. Coming up with a plan, he decided to help the woman out. From the opposite side of the warehouse, he placed a doll and a box on a table away from her.

"Ginny," she heard a strange voice from the shadowy part of the warehouse.

"Okay, seriously who is there?" she said, slowly reaching for her knife.

"By the doll." A light turned on in the back, illuminating what Ginny assumed was the "Billy" doll Jigsaw was known to use. Holding the knife in a defensive position, she slowly walked over to the table. As she reached out to open the box that was next to the doll, she heard footsteps behind her. "Don't turn around, and put the knife down."

Reluctantly, Ginny put the knife down. "Who are you and what's going on?" she asked, preparing to fight the strange man off.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a gruff voice, "I'm going to help you. In that box is a trap that I believe is what your friends sent you in to find. But before I loan you this, you're going to answer a few questions for me."

Twenty minutes later, Ginny handed the box through the window to Helen's friend and then climbed back out. The friend helped her out and handed her a cigarette.

"Thanks Ceci," she said, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag, "ah sweet cancer."

"So what did you snag?" Helen asked.

"Feast your eyes on what was affectionately known to the world as the Reverse Bear Trap!" She opened the box with a flourish, removing the trap, "Known as the trap that Amanda Young escaped from, the very mention of it striking fear into the hearts of lesser men and women." As if on cue Ceci whimpered and hid behind Helen. "Shut up ya pansy. Now Helen, when you're done scaring your pledges or whatever it is you have planned, I want it, ok?"

"Deal, man Ginny I wish you were a sister so you could watch what I have planned for those little bitches!"

"Yeah, well unlike you I'm not made of money, and you know I'm too damn stubborn to be a sorostitute. Besides, you can put the videos up of your plan on YouTube."

"Good point. Okay let's go drink at Ginny's, I'm not bringing the good shit to the house."

Ginny put out her cigarette, "Let's do this!"

He watched Ginny and the others slink off into the night, they hopped over the fence and dodged the booby traps with cat-like agility. Stepping back from the window, he went into the back of the warehouse he called 'home'. Sitting down on his bed, he itched at his scar, even after all this time it still bothered him at times. It would be interesting to see if the girl kept her end of the bargain.

Ginny sat on her couch while her friends busted out the Rock Band. She couldn't get that dark and mysterious voice out of her head, it sounded almost sexy but Ginny quickly chalked that up to not getting laid in months. Helen handed her another beer.

"You okay Gin? You look distracted."

"Yeah, I'm good, just a little sore from that bad landing." She looked at the box on the counter. If she followed through with the deal, things were going to get interesting.

**A/N: Yeah, trying something a bit new. I've got plans for this story ^_^, lemme know what you guys think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

A week had passed since Ginny had acquired the trap for Helen, and according to the buzz around campus it was making quite the impact on sorority row. Walking home from work one day though, she saw one of Helen's sorority sisters running out of the house in a panic.

"Oh my God Ginny! I'm so glad to see you!" She ran up to hug Ginny.

"Don't touch me! What's going on?"

"Helen's running around in a cloak chasing all of us with the trap thingy!"

Ginny sighed, "What is she on?"

"She dropped some acid a few hours ago."

"I'll take care of this." Ginny handed her bag to the frightened girl and stormed into the house. At the top of the staircase, she saw Helen standing there brandishing the reverse bear trap. "Okay Helen, hell week is over, you can give me the trap now."

"Never! I am Jigsaw! And you can't stop me!"

"Do you want me to get your godmother involved in this? Hand it over now."

"I will kill you all!" Helen yelled and threw the trap at Ginny, hitting her in the forehead and knocking her down the stairs. Ginny got up, grabbed the trap and left.

Once the sun had set, Ginny put the trap in her car and drove back to the warehouse. _Why am I doing this?_ She thought to herself, _I don't even know who that was and yet here I am going back._

**You're going back because you're curious.**

_Curious about what?_

**Curious about the voice in the warehouse. And you're bored.**

_That makes sense. Man I need to stop talking to myself._

**Yeah, that's not good.**

Parking her car a couple of blocks away, she snuck around to the warehouse. Ginny quickly hopped the fence and crawled back through the window, landing not so gracefully on her stomach. Brushing herself off, she wandered around the warehouse again, looking for a place to put the trap.

"Welcome back Ginny," the dark voice said, "put the trap on the table and have a seat." Ginny did so, nervously fidgeting with her hair. "Why did you come back?"

"We had a deal, I don't bail on those."

"But you had a choice. You knew that even if you did 'bail' I would have no way to find you." Ginny heard the footsteps coming from behind her. "You could also have just dropped the trap through the window and ran," the footsteps stopped, and Ginny could hear him breathing, "but here you are." Ginny inwardly swore, he was right. "So why did you come back?"

"I, I honestly don't know. I guess it just felt like what I should do."

The stranger chuckled, "I think I know why you came back. I saw how you gazed over my work. The fascination in your eyes was something I hadn't seen. I think you came back because you want to learn more about the past." He walked around to the other side of the table, Ginny's gaze not moving from the table's dusty surface.

"And what do you know about the past?" She looked up to finally see the man behind the voice.

"I am Detective Mark Hoffman." Ginny's eyes widened.

"You…you're the guy who helped Jigsaw! Everyone said you were dead." Ginny scooted her chair back, feeling frightened.

"I was left for dead in that godforsaken bathroom," he said, pulling up another chair and sitting down, "I spent a week in there surrounded by bodies, almost went mad. Finally after the water from the bathtub went dry, I saw a key at the bottom of the tub drain. I was able to get the key out and escape the bathroom…"

"…and you've been hiding ever since?" He nodded, "did you really kill Jill Tuck?"

The detective grinned evilly, "Yes, your friend's godmother is just crazy."

"So why hide for all these years? Why not strike back?"

"Because waiting would intensify the effect of my revenge," he said as his eyes seemed to stare right into Ginny's soul, "and I think you can help me."

"What?" he placed a file on the table and gestured for her to open it. Inside the folder was a stack of black and white photos of Ginny. She recognized the places; outside work, with her friends, even when she first snuck into the warehouse. "Have…have you been stalking me?" she felt her face flushing with anger while she clenched her fists.

"Just following in public places, I didn't follow you home if that's what you're implying."

"But why follow me?" She flipped through the photos, pausing to glance at writing behind the photos.

"Read what I've written."

"Ok, 'street-smart, logical, seems to have good mechanical skills but lacks some social sense' well that last one's just not true," Ginny turned to a photo of her and her friends, " 'while having a circle, she seems to be at a higher level of intellect which the others take advantage of' Get out of my brain!" She closed the folder and pushed it back to the detective, "I still don't get what is really going on here."

"It's simple; the man who put me in the bathroom was given instructions for one last game. Obviously-"

"It never happened since the games stopped after Bobby whats-his-face was recovered."

"Don't interrupt, but yes, you're right. And I need someone like you to help me." Ginny cocked her head to the side, "you have the knowledge and skills to help me. In return, I will make your problems," he held up a second folder, "disappear."

Ginny gulped, "And if I say no?"

He grinned again, now reminding Ginny of a hungry wolf, "Nothing as long as you don't go running to the police. If you want to help me, return here tomorrow, the door will be unlocked," he stood up and started to walk away. Turning back to face her, he lowered his voice, "otherwise don't come back." And with that, he left Ginny sitting there. Once her head stopped spinning, she got up and left the warehouse.

As soon as Ginny got home, she quickly logged on to her computer, within the hour she had pulled up dozens upon dozens of reports about the old Jigsaw killings. After grabbing a snack, she printed the majority of them out and started to read through them.

Seven hours went by and Ginny thought she had most of the case figured out. The only thing she couldn't put her finger on was why, if everyone else was gone, was Detective Hoffman still hell-bent on finishing a ten-year old plan? Maybe it had to do with his trap scar on his face. Changing into her pajamas, she crawled into bed, "Meh, I'll figure the last part out in the morning." Ginny's cat, GeeGee, curled up next to her, "What do you think pretty kitty?" The cat just mewed in response, "You're always repeating yourself!" she said as she fell asleep.

As Mark Hoffman heard Ginny's rushed footsteps, he pulled out the other folder he had of her. Mark preferred these pictures of her, he could see a different side to young Ginny. Unlike the cool and serious demeanor she gave off around her friends, she seemed to be a different woman all alone. Sitting in the park with her cat, going for a jog, doing yoga on the university greed. Her expression in those photos were the same look of intrigue and happiness he saw when she first looked over the traps. For her to go through the shit he had found out about, he would fix it for her if she would let him. Mark turned off the light and went to sleep thinking about how to really help young Ginny.

The next day, after her classes, Ginny met up with Helen and Ceci for some lunch. Not surprisingly they were both already loaded.

"Gin Gin!" Helen squealed, stumbling over to her, "sit sit! We already got you a Cosmo!"

"You know I don't drink on weekdays or in the daytime." She replied, sitting down.

"Well then we'll drink them for you!" Helen didn't catch Ginny rolling her eyes at the.

Their lunch went by rather uneventfully, although Helen wanted Ginny to build her sorority a new concert stage for no pay and Ceci was moaning about some new guy. Ginny tuned out half the conversation to think about the new deal, just nodding when she felt she should nod, but Helen caught on to her act.

"Hey Irish Psycho! Snap up!" Helen said, snapping her fingers in front of Ginny's face, "back to reality crazy!"

"Sorry, am just tired."

"I thought you were over that?"

"I'm fucking tired!" Ginny took out some cash and put it on the table. "I'll see y'all later." And she left the two drunken girls in the restaurant to head home.

When the sun set, Ginny found herself standing at the door of the warehouse.

_I must be crazy, why am I doing this?_

**Because you want this.**

_What, to kill? No I don't!_

**No, you want to try something new. A new approach to living. Just open the door.**

_Well, I guess you're right, but I don't know if this is such a good…_

**DO IT!**

Hand shaking, heart racing, Ginny opened the door and walked in. The place was eerily quiet, her echoing footsteps providing the only sound.

"De-detective Hoffman? Are you in here?"

"Where else would I be?" he stepped out into the main room. Now according to all of Ginny's research, the man should have been at least 50. But unless it was just some trick of the light, he really didn't look his age. "So I assume this means you have decided to help me?"

Ginny nodded, "As long as you still do what you promised you would. And you don't double-cross me like you did to Miss Tuck, Agent Strahm, and Detective Matthews, need I go on?"

He chuckled, "you did your research."

"I don't go into a situation without researching it Detective Hoffman."

"Call me Mark," he said, offering his arm to her, "shall we?"

As Ginny took his arm she couldn't shake a certain feeling of foreboding.

Like she had just given herself to the Devil.

* * *

**A/N: this will be keeping canon with the ending and aftermath of SAW VII. Also I am reworking "Pieces Come Together" to account for the ending of SAW VII; my original ending will show up, but I will make a new canonical ending.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

**Pentonville Maximum Security Penitentiary – New York – early that morning**

Benjamin Baxter made his way through the halls of Cell Block D for the last time. This day had been a long time coming, various cheers and jeers coming from the other inmates as the guards pushed him along.

"Hey man," he said, his southern drawl still unaffected by by his stay in New York, "police brutality ain't nice."

The guard on his left snorted, "Like that'll matter to you, move it."

Benjamins smirked as he was shoved into a small room, he sat down in the indicated chair and stared at the people in front of him. "Let's get this show on the road shall we?"

**The Warehouse – that evening**

Mark led Ginny through the corridors, occasionally stopping to point out various objects and talk about various 'rules' he wanted her to follow.

"…and it goes without saying that secrecy is the name of our game."

"I understand, just two questions: how did you recover all this stuff after the explosion and how the hell does this place still have power?"

He pointed to a fuse box in the back, "This place is off the city's power grid, and whatever items I couldn't recreate I simply acquired from…collectors." The look on his face told Ginny that the matter was closed. "You should go get some rest, you're going to be very busy." She nodded and left.

When she returned home, she noticed a small box on her kitchen counter with a note attached to it. Throwing a frozen dinner in the microwave and tossing her jacket onto her chair, she went to read it.

"_Ginny,"_ the note read, _"consider this a welcome gift…MH"_ She raised an eyebrow as she carefully opened the box. Inside of it was a thin silver chain, and attached to the chain was a small silver puzzle piece charm with small rhinestones on it. Once she had fastened it around her neck, she had a feeling of fear…this obviously meant that not only did the former detective know where she lived, but also how to enter and leave without a trace. The beeping of the microwave snapped her back from her mental ramblings, Ginny shook her head and took the dinner out, then went to check her voicemail.

Later on in the evening Mark was down at the local liquor store, 10 years of aging along with poor store lighting and the failing eyesight of the shopkeep allowed him to stay unrecognized. As he placed his items on the counter a preppy-looking blonde, who he recognized as Ginny's friend Helen, pushed past him to talk to the elderly cashier.

"Uncle Jim I kinda need your help. Got a call from Scott over in NY and I need the emergency stock to talk to Ginny 'cause when she hears this news there's gonna be a level 7 panic attack!" she said in one rushed breath.

"If this is what I think it's about, Scott told her already on her voicemail. Sent your friend Ceci over there about half an hour ago to start calming her down," he reached under the counter and pulled out a big purple bottle, "here you go, just be careful with it." Helen nodded and scampered. Jim then turned his attention back to Mark, "Sorry about that, you been doing okay Nick?"

"Same old shit Jim," he said while fishing for his wallet, "what about you? Everything okay on your end? Niece sounded kinda panicked."

Jim shook his head while he continued to ring up Mark's purchases, "Might as well tell you since you're the only customer that gives a damn, "he slammed his hands on the counter, "early this morning this scumbag named Benjamin Baxter got released from prison." Mark inwardly flinched, he knew who this guy was, "8 years ago he killed the parents of Helen's best friend Ginny and you don't even want to know what happened to her. An old buddy of mine who works at that prison called to tell us he got released today, some sort of legal paperwork problem. I swear they give criminals like that too much leeway. The poor girl is very close to me and my family so obviously we're all worried."

Mark nodded in understanding, "In that case I'll be sure to keep you and your family in my prayers." He picked up his bags and turned to leave, "Take it easy Jim."

"You too Nick."

He returned to his hideout angrier than when he got locked in that bathroom. Again a member of the Baxter family hadn't fully paid for their crimes and again they were going to have to answer to him. He slugged down his drink and started to jot down ideas, his plan had to be expedited now.

Meanwhile at Ginny's it was a surprisingly calm atmosphere, Ceci had passed out on the couch leaving Helen and Ginny to amuse themselves.

"…well I do have my CWP now so – oww- if he does find or come near me I can go Xena on his ass and not get into trouble. Helen nodded as she continued curling Ginny's newly dyed hair.

"Good point, just don't run around in the costume, you could cause an accident. Although I don't really think you should stay by yourself. We have a spare room at the house if you want."

"No way in hell am I staying in your sorority house, there would be a new massacre there. You and Ceci are the only girls there I can stand."

"Well still, New York seems like forever away," Helen paused to hiccup, "but ya never know." A loud snore from Ceci made them both jump.

"Yeah, but regardless, we need to be a little less jumpy."

"Jump!" and they both started laughing.

**A/N: yeah shortish chapter, yeah it's been a while since I updated…don't ask, reviews are loved.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**(A/N: the last half of this chapter is a bit on the psychologically dark side. Reader discretion is advised)**

After dropping (an extremely hung-over) Helen and Ceci back home, Ginny stopped by the campus Starbucks before her class. Sitting outside, she started sketching blueprints for her thesis project.

"Ginny?" she looked up and waved.

"Oh hi Brent!" Brent had been a TA for her first mechanics class and after the class ended, the two stayed in contact, "How are you?"

"Just dealing with more idiotic freshmen. The usual." He laughed and pulled up a chair next to her, "Can you believe some kids don't know the difference between a Phillips and Flathead screwdriver? What're you working on?"

"Sketches for my thesis project. Dr. V wants me to show them to him on Friday, not looking forward to it."

"Lemme see what you have," she handed him her notebook, "Hmm, these aren't too bad of a start," he said while flipping through them, "although some of them look familiar." Ginny noticed a quick flash of panic in his face and she grabbed them back.

"Well you know how Dr. V loves real events and dark stuff, so I figured this would work."

Brent smiled, "Sure sounds like him," he checked his watch, "shit I've got to go. Office hours for the screwdriver-challenged. Take it easy." He got up, gave her a hug, and left.

Benjamin exited the Greyhound station and slung his bag over his shoulder. Walking outside into the sun, he smirked at his ride.

"Good to see you held up your agreement." Benjamin said.

"Just don't expect me to be pleased about it, get in."

When evening arrived, Ginny again entered the warehouse. Not seeing Mark anywhere she nervously sat down and opened her water bottle. "Hope I'm not late." She said quietly.

"No, you're on time." Mark said, stepping out from the back, "Put these gloves on and let's get started."

For the next few hours Ginny and Mark constructed the first new trap in a decade. She noticed that the original design seemed to be a bit rough than the others, maybe a little less finesse than the old ones, certainly less polished than the old ones. When they had finished the construction, Ginny finally had the guts to ask what had been bugging her.

"Uhm…Mark? Dye think we should maybe…I don't know…adjust the aesthetics of this trap?"

Mark gave her an amused smile, "And why do you think that?"

"Well I just thought that if you wanted the public to know that the Jigsaw Games are back then…"

"Then it should be similar to the old ones?" Ginny nodded, "You have a good point Ginny and for this one we can do that. This is our practice game."

"Practice?"

"Yes, just for us to get a feel for the work," he walked up to her and handed her another drill, "to see how well we can do this and how we work off of each other." He gave her a dangerous smile, and Ginny couldn't avoid seeing the danger in his piercing blue eyes, "and I think we work well together, do you agree?" Ginny nodded and he turned to walk back towards the trap, "When we start our real game however, the obstacles will need to keep this rough quality. I want them to know it's me running the show now," he cocked his head to the side, "and that it's me they should fear." Still facing the trap, he gestured for Ginny to join him and she did. "It was always meant to be my legacy," he said, turning to face her, "and with your help they will realize this. Now go rest. And remember, you can't go back, you're in it for the long haul now."

"I promise I'm not going anywhere."

"And you're sure about that?"

"As sure of anything." She said, and left to go home.

Unaware to her as she drove home, she was being followed. When she got home she locked her door, but forgot to put the chain lock on, a mistake that didn't go unnoticed by her follower. While Ginny turned on the television and went to change into her pajamas, the stranger picked the lock and snuck in. After pausing to pet Gigi, she walked back to the kitchen to pour herself a small glass of wine. Sticking her head in the fridge put the rest of the wine back, she heard odd noises coming from the TV. "That's odd," she said, taking a gulp from her glass, "that doesn't sound like Family Guy."

"And you'd be right." A rough voice with a southern drawl said from her armchair, "nice to see you again Gin."

"Benjamin Baxter." Ginny said, trying to stay calm. She tried to subtly reach for the drawer where she kept her gun, but he noticed.

"I wouldn't do that little Ginny." He said, pointing her revolver at her.

"What, are you gonna kill me now? Why didn't you just do it then?"

"Oh can't an old family friend just drop by for a visit? Besides," he opened up the chamber of the gun, "I took the bullets out as a sign of good faith." Benjamin paused what was on the TV and looked Ginny up and down, "Mmm, you grew up into quite the southern belle, shame we're not back in Georgia. Glad you're here to watch this with me, my second favorite part of the movie is coming up. Watch!" He un-paused the video and saw Benjamin on the screen approaching Ginny's mother.

"_No please!"_ Ginny heard her mom beg, _her mother attempted to knock the knife out of his hands but a kick to her stomach knocked her down._

"_Bitch," the on-screen Benjamin muttered_ (to Ginny's horror the Benjamin on her couch was laughing and mouthing along with the tape), _"now it's time to make this little piggy squeal." As Benjamin stabbed her mother, Ginny felt like she was back in that house again. The screams from the tape reawakening all the fear and terror Ginny had tried getting past._ Benjamin's laugh in her living room brought her back to reality. "Oh watch this part Ginny, it's your feature film debut!" _The camera panned across the room to where a 12 year old Ginny was hiding under a counter. _ "Good thing you were so young then." Benjamin's sickening laugh was the final straw. As the TV-Baxter reached for the little Ginny, the real Ginny lunged at Benjamin. She smashed her wine glass against the table and swiped at his face with the jagged edge.

"You bastard!" she yelled, using her other hand to punch him in the face.

"Oh, you're gonna put up a fight this time?" he asked, grabbing her by the hair, "Now that's more like it!" he punched her in the stomach with his free hand and flung her onto the glass coffee table, shattering it as she hit the ground. He stood over her leering and Ginny was able to deliver a solid kick to his stomach, giving her a couple seconds to get up before he caught his breath.

"You fucking bitch!" Ginny couldn't tell which version of Benjamin had said that and personally she didn't care. Adrenaline coursing through her veins, she grabbed the back of his shirt and rammed him into her bookcase. As the books and statuettes fell on both of them, Ginny stepped back momentarily stunned (she didn't notice that her head was bleeding). Benjamin staggered upright, glaring at her, and gripped her wrist so tightly she knew something would break.

Any neighbor who heard the ruckus would just assume that Ginny either had friends over or was just watching another loud movie, but as their fight continued, no one bothered to check on her.

Finally Benjamin had the upper hand, grabbing Ginny by the throat and slamming her against her kitchen wall.

"Now to drag this out." He said, stabbing her in the side with one of her kitchen knives. Ginny screamed and suddenly Benjamin's grip on her loosened and he slumped down to the ground. Behind him stood a cloaked figure. Ginny's vision was getting blurry as the figure approached her, she whimpered as it raised a hand to hold her face. Just before she lost consciousness, the hood of his cloak fell back, and the last thing she could clearly see was a pair of piercing blue eyes.

* * *

**A/N: I'm thinking that the rating for this might need to be bumped up to 'M' soon because it's only going to get more violent from here. We'll see though. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

* * *

Ginny woke up with a start and screamed, looking at her clock she noticed that she had slept through the entire day. Struggling to catch her breath, she wondered if her encounter with Benjamin had just been a bad dream. One look at the bandage on her arm told her she hadn't dreamt it, she sat up and felt stitches in her side.

"How in the…" she cautiously put her slippers on, grabbed her cane with her good arm, and slowly walked to the living room.

"There's no need for the cane, Ginny" she heard as she opened the door. Ginny peeked around the corner and saw Mark standing in her living room with a garbage bag. The first thing she noticed was the same blue eyes that she had seen just before losing consciousness during her fight with Benjamin.

"So it wasn't a bad dream." She said softly, looking at the damage of the room.

"No it wasn't." He said, moving to sit down on her couch and gesturing for her to sit with him. She went over to him, wincing as she sat down. "Are you feeling any better yet?"

"No, still feel like I got the shit kicked out of me…which I did." She felt the stitches on her side tug just a bit, "Did you stitch me up in my sleep?" he nodded.

"You were in very bad shape when I got here. After you passed out I stopped the bleeding, stitched up your side as best I could, and fixed the rest of you as best as I could." He got up to get her some water.

"But how did you know what was happening?"

"When you left last night, I saw a car follow yours." Mark handed her the water and took two pills out of his pocket, offering them to her, "It's just vicodin, will help with the pain," she hesitantly accepted them from him but did not take them. Rolling his eyes, he took two more pills out and dry-swallowed them. After being assured that they weren't poison, Ginny took hers.

"So what happened to Benjamin then?"

Mark took a sip of his own water and replayed the events in his mind. _The sounds of Benjamin's yells, Mark's voice on the tape, the pain that Benjamin went through to get out of his trap…eventually losing his left hand completely._

"He's been dealt with, he'll never hurt you or anyone ever again."

Ginny thought about that answer for a few seconds, "He's dead, isn't it?" Mark nodded, "That's who the game we built yesterday was for." He nodded again, "Well, seems fitting then that he failed his test then."

"Yes it does." He put his glass down and let his mind wander back to those final moments.

_Benjamin crawled to the door, the timer still stopped at the one second mark. Coughing up blood, he managed to stand up to open the door; stumbling down the hallway he saw someone standing dead center._

"_Hey!" Benjamin called out before falling down, "A little help over here?"_

_Mark laughed as Benjamin called out to him, he nodded and walked over to him, "Game over." He said, pointing a gun at Benjamin's forehead._

"_But-but I passed your stupid test! I got out of your damn trap! Let me go you motherfucker!"_

"_You're still unworthy of the life you live," Mark cocked the hammer, "But I'll be sure to send my Ginny your regards." He pulled the trigger and Benjamin Baxter fell down, dead._

Mark was brought back to the present by Ginny's head hitting his shoulder, the poor girl had fallen asleep again. Mark picked her up and carried her back to her bedroom. Making sure to not rip her stitches, he gingerly tucked her back into bed and turned off her lamp. He stayed there, watching her sleep, watching over her, until the first few rays of the sunrise peeked through the window. He leaned down to kiss her, then got up and returned once again to his hideout.

* * *

**A/N: Short, sorry, wanted to get this up so I could move on with this one heh.**


End file.
